


The Wagon Boy's Drizzling Lament: Creepy Caps Not Included

by Nate_kun



Series: The Calem and Serena Situation Type Thing [4]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nate_kun/pseuds/Nate_kun
Summary: Hopelessly lost in an enchanted mire, Calem and Serena seek refuge in each other's ramblings [Revised: 4/27/2020].
Relationships: Calme | Calem & Serena, Calme | Calem/Serena
Series: The Calem and Serena Situation Type Thing [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648378
Kudos: 10





	The Wagon Boy's Drizzling Lament: Creepy Caps Not Included

**Author's Note:**

> [This is a vintage work from my old days at FF.net, revived and revised to reflect my current style. If you'd like more information on that, please consult my FF.net profile. Other than these revisions, the general tone and feel of the text that follows is still a time capsule from the glorious early 2010s. Thanks for understanding.]
> 
> Word Count: 1368 words.

"Any more bright ideas, professor?"

As if it isn't bad enough that the route is an unearthly mess of muck and mud with more twists, turns, and near indistinguishable trees than anyone can feasibly keep track of—it has to rain too. The gnarled, allegedly never ending road to Laverre is beyond swamped, submerged in just the right amount of slop, sludge, backwater slime, _and of course water,_ to lure out the urchins and ragamuffins nesting beneath the scummy forest floor. Barboach wiggle out of the earth by the dozens, patrolling the flooded forest trails like hollow sentries, guided entirely by the whims of their whiskers. One of them is unlucky enough to swim past a Quagsire's den, and Calem arrives just in time to see it get lopped in two by the beady-eyed butcher.

" _Nuoh..._ "

Stirred from its slumber by the aching rain, the creature stares idly at the trainer with a cascading mouthful of muddy water and the rear end of the Barboach still in its mouth, before turning and marching into the foggy unknown. An uncomfortable slurping noise shakes the wood soon thereafter and only reinforces just how little of a chance the Barboach had to begin with.

"How was I to know it would get this bad?" Calem grunts as he toils her along. "You're the one who said ' _Fufufu. It's_ _only going to be a light sprinkle, Calem! We should be fine as long as we make it to the next town, Calem! Buying an umbrella is a waste of money, Calem! You're not going to need it, Calem!'_ "

He's still working on the imitation.

"Sorry," Serena twirls her own umbrella. "A perfect clock can be... _imperfect_ every now and then. I'd appreciate it if you would shut up and stop chiding me for it. It's wet, it's hot, and there are questionable noises in the distance that make me question my safety and sanity."

Calem wipes the rain on his cheeks with a tired grunt. "Not until you share that umbrella. You're going to give me a cold!"

"No," she says without skipping a beat. "I've no interest in getting my new dress wet. Besides, you can't pull me _and_ hold onto an umbrella at the same time. You're far too frail."

Never mind the rain soaking her dress, _everything_ in the swamp is a death sentence for anyone wearing anything remotely fashionable. It's for that reason alone that Calem bears through the festering wretches of the thick, oozing mire headfirst, pulling behind him a rusty red wagon containing his dearest companion.

_Never mind the fancy new suit he also purchased for himself._

"Are you really going to make me pull you all the way?" he asks. " _All the way?!_ Why can't you just walk?!"

"I don't want to get my shoes dirty," Calem feels a kick on his rear. "Though I guess I've contracted filth just now either way."

"Might as well just carry you the rest of the way," he grunts, almost wishing she would kick him again. "This is getting us nowhere."

"No," her response is even quicker than before. "There's a chance someone will see us."

"We're smack dab in the middle of a swamp if you haven't noticed!" he argues. "Is that going to be your excuse for everything? What if they see me pulling you in a wagon?! Isn't that _ten times_ stranger?!"

"Hmph," she huffs. "Maybe I just don't want your gross breath all over me."

"I brush twice and you know it!"

"I'm going to get tired of hugging your neck. You'll drop me straight into the mud."

"Would make for an amusing photo!"

"It would make for a nice slap on your face."

Calem's teasing lilt dies on his tongue with a cowardly gulp. Silence ensues as the pair continue down the winding path, occasionally facing hardship in the form of potholes, exposed roots, and inexplicably ominous moaning. It isn't long before Calem interjects again. "So am I going to at least get a reward for doing this? Do you have any idea how _drenched_ I'm going to be by the time we reach the center? You better have something in mind!"

"Hmm, I don't know," Serena hums. "You get to shower first?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of us showering to—"

"Nope."

Calem rolls his eyes. _There was an attempt, if nothing else._ As his sarcastic peepers rollover to the dark and cloudy sky above, he begins to realize just how late it's gotten.

"How about we cuddle then?" he asks softly. "Assuming we get out of here, that is."

"You always end up doing so anyway," her answer is just as gentle. "And I'm always too tired to fight it at that point. Regardless, what kind of reward is that? "

"I dunno. I guess I'd feel just a little bit more content knowing you gave me the okey dokey in advance."

Serena murmurs something faintly sweet to him, but the heavy rain prevents him from hearing whatever it is. Before he can ask her to repeat herself, the wagon hits a bump in the road.

"Watch it."

"Got it."

Calem takes a moment to think, a rarity for him. Egged on by the somber mood of the marshland, he thinks about the girl, the wagon, the mess they've found themselves entangled in, and the many lengths he's gone to see to her needs. Part of him wonders if he's become whipped to her designs or if it's his own individual will prompting him to act gallantly in her stead. _'If it's the latter,'_ he thinks. _'Wouldn't I know it?'_

She's beautiful, astounding even, like an ice queen whose heart he yearns to melt. Though scathing on the surface, her exterior is as much a front as his own. He's dense, _sure_ , but not a complete fool. Though their bond is still young, he knows her well enough to know when she's playing things up, and not.

"Pumpkaboo really suits you," he says out of the blue, referring to her dress.

"Your hat," she compliments in return, referring to the stump on his head that's taken the place of his old cap _(it came with the suit)._ "It would be cuter if it weren't a dead child."

As the rain continues to pour, Serena gazes into the shadowy reaches just beyond the beaten path. She spots something darting between the trees, but dismisses it as a trick of the eyes when it fails to reappear.

"Are we there yet?" she asks, well aware that they aren't.

"Huh. Never thought you'd ask that."

"Yes, well, patience tends to wear thin under freezing conditions."

It isn't long before they reach a fork in the road. Calem stops, unable to discern which path goes where.

"Damn it. All this fog... Which way do you want to go?"

"The right way."

"How do you know that way leads to tow—"

"I don't," she cuts him off. "I want to go the right way, as in I would like for us to go into the _right_ direction. There is a difference."

"W-well that doesn't help at all!" Calem waves frantically at her. "Which path is the **_right_** path then?!"

Just for show, she takes a gander down either path before coming to a conclusion. "I haven't the slightest idea. We could mull it over if you want, but I'm getting restless so just head left. If my intuition ends up being wrong, we can simply turn back and head in the other direction. Make it quick though, I'm starting to get wet."

"Welcome to my world," he tips his Phantump hat. "Want to hear a scary story while you're here?"

"I'm in the woods at night with you," she answers with a cock of her head. "I'm living a nightmare as we speak, but if you want to make things worse, go ahead."

"There was once a skeleton," Calem begins warily.

"Did he hop out of his own grave and start dancing?" Serena asks. The story isn't exactly original.

"Oh, did I tell this one already?" he smiles. "How sweet of you to remember!"

Serena twirls her umbrella and they reach Laverre within the hour.


End file.
